Fleeting Eternity - 4. Absolution

It was early on Thursday morning and still dark. Chris watched her enter the little cafe on Harris Street. That she had agreed to come was a bit of a surprise, but Miranda stepped into the warm, well-lit breakfast spot, out of the falling rain of the gloomy morning. Miranda pushed the hood of her rain jacket back, and her eyes raked over the room until they landed on him. Then she walked across the black and white tiled floor, pulled out the old wooden chair, and sat.

"Thanks. For meeting me." Christopher folded his hands in front of him on the table, and he looked down, away from her eyes. "I know you must hate me."

Miranda sat back in her chair, arms crossed and glared at Chris. "I'm here because of who you were to Tad." She sighed. "And because he wants us all to get along," she said, though Chris noticed that she didn't deny hating him.

The way she said "were" made him flinch. Miranda continued to stare at him. "What do you want, Christopher?"

He swallowed and fidgeted with the cuff of his long-sleeved button-up shirt. He had dressed nicely in some of the best clothes he owned. The light blue shirt fit him well and with his gray slacks, he looked as if he could be a young professional at the university. He wanted Miranda to know that he respected her and had dressed accordingly, though it meant he'd have to go home and change before heading to his job at the dealership later that morning. "I just want to know how he's doing." He finally raised his hazel eyes up to meet her dark ones. "I know he has been out with another guy." Chris smiled, though the expression was pained. "I'd hoped he was dating."

Miranda frowned. "First, I find it hard to believe you hope he's dating someone else. Second, I check in with him every day and far as I know he's still fine. And I don't know anything about him dating someone else." She clenched her jaw. "Even if he is, that's none of your business now."

Chris had known this might be hard, and he had tried to prepare himself for her anger. Still, knowing she'd be mad and dealing with it were two entirely different things. "Yeah, I know that." He shook his head and looked down at his coffee, searching for something else to focus on. "I'm not upset about him dating. I… I hope it works out for him."

Miranda was silent. Then she inhaled in what sounded like a realization. "You want absolution. You want to know you can really walk away and just stay gone." Chris set his jaw and his hands tightened on his mug as she leaned forward. "That is the foulest thing I've ever heard. That you'd leave? Right when he needed you? You were everything to him! That you'd just…" She caught herself as her voice started to rise and heads in the restaurant turned toward them. She took a shaky breath. They were both quiet - her staring in a barely controlled rage, while Chris hung his head in misery. Finally, she continued, "You're a coward. That's what you are, and my brother deserves better."

Christopher had no idea how he could explain, so he didn't try. Instead, he nodded. "Yeah. I know."

Miranda snorted with a laugh. "Well, at least we agree on that." She pushed away from the table and stood. "Christopher, despite what you've done, Tad still loves you. He still loves you." The incredulous tone in her voice told Chris exactly what she thought about that. She leaned forward and loomed over him, her hands on the tabletop. "That worries me. Because he doesn't need someone in his life who will cut and run when things get hard. And we both know things are going to get a lot harder. So if you truly care, you really will stay gone." She stared at him until he raised his sad and tired eyes to hers.

She didn't wait for a response. Miranda turned and strode away as if he were no longer of any value at all.

Chris watched her go. After she was gone he slumped in his seat, and turned his head to look at the rain. It fell on the wet street outside the cafe, and he let his eyes lose focus. He sat that way for a long time, staring into the rain and dreaming of the sun.

∞

It was mid-morning, Thursday. The rain had yet to let up, which made Nate glad he was inside the bookstore. Only a few customers milled about. Nate was a little nervous about seeing Kent. The young man was due to work in a few minutes, and Nate was a bit concerned about how the day would go.

The phone rang and his coworker, Elizabeth, picked it up. "Hello, Eureka Books." She listened and then her lips pressed into a thin line. "Oh. Okay." While Elizabeth spoke her eyes flicked to spear Nate as he stood nearby. "Yeah, it's fine, Kent. If you need the day off, just take it. We can handle things between us. I'll let Mr. and Mrs. Stewart know. Feel better." She hung up, tapped her foot, then she turned her body to face Nate.

Nate pretended to be engrossed in organizing a stack of books next to the counter. Liz cleared her throat. "That was Kent." Her voice had just a bit of a bite. "He's calling out today. Said he needed a mental health day."

"Huh." Nate gave a non-committal nod. Then he chuckled. "He's nineteen-years-old. What has he got to be stressed about?"

Liz didn't answer. She only crossed her arms and looked at him. Nate squirmed, and he coughed. "Uh, I'm gonna go reshelve these." He grabbed the stack and he quickly got out of her sight.

Guilt was not an emotion Nate typically felt, but Liz had a way of quietly inflicting it on him. "Fucking judgy Liz," Nate muttered as he worked to reshelve books on some of the back shelves. "I can't help if Kent is too immature to handle his own sexuality."

Nate continued to grumble to himself as he put books away. Then he frowned as his phone vibrated. Nate put his remaining load down at his feet on the old, polished wooden floor, and he pulled the phone from his pocket.

There was a text with a digital drawing of he and Tad kissing in a car, and Nate grinned at the message from Tad. It was exactly what he needed to distract from his guilty mind. 'Aww! I love it!' He quickly tapped out the reply and sent it.

Tad replied with a smiley face. Nate grinned down at the phone and his thoughts centered back on the dark-haired man. Nate had never met a guy who interested him more. Maybe it was because Tad had turned him down and that typically didn't happen. That was almost certainly a part of his desire.

Yet, there was something more. Each time he thought about Tad he felt not only aroused but uncharacteristically giddy, and there was a lack of full control over his thoughts. Even when he wanted to push the handsome man out of his mind to focus on something else, he found that he couldn't do it. At multiple points during the day, Nate had to keep himself from texting Tad.

Part of the game meant Nate always made the object of his attention text or call him. Even while on the hunt, he always played the part of the prize. But Tad was something else. Nate replayed the kiss between them over and over in his memory and such focus on a guy had never happened to him before.

He forced himself to put the phone away and he exhaled. "Get a grip. You'll see him on Sunday." Nate picked up the books on the floor and resumed his work. But his mind kept going. 'I need a distraction. Maybe Grindr. I can find a boy who wants to screw.'

He frowned as he debated. 'It won't be Tad though.' Nate let out an audible groan of frustration. He slid a thick textbook into place with some force. "Why can't it be Sunday?"

∞

"What?" Tad stood up from the powerful desktop computer he used for work, his cell phone in hand. The call from his sister interrupted a contracted graphic design job he was just finishing up, but he could go back to that. "You saw him? You saw Christopher?" Tad's voice showed his concern. "How was he? Did he look okay?"

"Tad, he's fine. Don't worry about that pr-" She stopped, then she sighed. "Look, don't worry about Christopher. He just wanted to know how you're doing." Her voice softened. "I guess you guys aren't communicating at all. Honestly, I think that's for the best."

"I know that you do." Tad rubbed his short black hair. "If I thought it'd help him I'd show up at his door at that apartment on Wabash. But I don't think it would." Tad shook his head. "It has to be him. I won't ask him to come back through." He bit his lip as he struggled. "Ah, I'll never ask him to stay through what's coming."

"You shouldn't have to ask, Tad. He had the chance to do the right thing and he screwed up. This is your decision. He should stand by you, not run because he disagrees." Her voice was hard, and the judgment obvious. Then Miranda's tone shifted. "He said he saw you out with a guy. Are you dating someone new?"

"Shit." Tad exhaled and he looked at the ceiling. "I hate this small town sometimes."

Miranda chuckled. "Yeah, word gets around."

"Well, there's no word to get around. I'm not dating." Tad felt a flush of embarrassment. "Ah, it was just dinner with a cute guy. He asked me out, and I went."

"Mmm hmm. And do you have another date scheduled with him?"

"Damn it, Miranda." Tad laughed uncomfortably.

"You do! That's the definition of 'dating' you know - multiple dates!" She joined him in laughter and Tad could hear the smile in her voice. "Tad, don't feel bad about that. Date! Have fun." She breathed in relief. "God, I'm glad you're moving on."

"There's no moving on, Miranda." Tad looked at Kali as she lay curled in her bed beside his computer desk. "So much of me still lives with Chris. There's only," he searched for the right words, "there's only distraction."

"Distraction?" Miranda paused. "Does this new guy know that's what he is?" She asked the question gently, but Tad felt a tiny stab of guilt.

"Oh, he knows. He's a bit of a player." He smiled on the phone. "It's actually kind of perfect; there's no danger of anything more, and I don't have to go and have the talk with him."

"Well, in that case, I'm glad you're distracting yourself," Miranda said.

Tad smiled sadly. "Yeah. I guess I am too. Nate's cute, and I had a lot of fun with him."

"I'm happy to hear it," she said. "That's all I want, you know? I just want you to be happy."

"I know, sis. Thanks."

They said their goodbyes and Tad hung up. He held the phone in both hands and navigated to his Contact List. Tad found Christopher's entry and selected it. He stared at the picture associated with the number. Chris's handsome face stared back at him from the screen. His light brown hair and beard suited him so well, and his wide jaw made him look like an action hero. The desire to call him was almost overwhelming.

Tad took a deep breath and locked the phone before he changed his mind. He put the device back into his pocket, and he took long, slow breaths to calm himself.

Once he had a modicum of control, he sat back at his desk. He still had work to finish before the end of the day, as his client needed to review the logo design first thing in the morning. So he forced himself to get back on task.

Yet, in the back of his mind, he dwelled on the handsome face of his old lover.

∞

"Hey, Chris!" Stanley Morris's excited voice broke through Christopher's focus as he examined the error codes for the Chevy Volt in the shop.

Christopher looked over at the small, skinny guy as the fellow got to work and entered the garage. "Hey, Stanley." Chris went back to the computer, intent on simply getting on with his work.

Stanley wasn't deterred. "What are you up to this weekend? Anything fun?" He smiled at Chris and stood close. A guy would have to be crazy to miss that Stanley was interested in him. Ever since Chris had revealed to the friendly man that he was no longer seeing Tad, he had been dogged in his attempts to squeeze social interaction out of his bigger coworker.

Christopher sighed. "I think I'm going to pick up another shift." He shrugged. "I can use the money."

Stanley's smile fell a bit. "Oh." He scuffed his feet on the cement floor of the shop, and he waved as another mechanic walked by. Once the other fellow was out of earshot Stanley continued, "Uh, well, if you don't, or, uh, even if you do! I mean, you still gotta eat, right?" He began to ramble, and he seemed to try and refocus. "Yeah. Uh, dinner. Dinner?" He grimaced, and Chris could tell that he was irritated at his fumbling. "Would you wanna get dinner?"

Chris observed him. The younger man shifted his weight back and forth between both feet. His hands rubbed nervously on his mechanic jumper as he looked hopefully at Christopher. Stanley had never actually gotten up the nerve to ask him out before. Chris liked him. Maybe in a different scenario, there could have been some potential for more between them. But as things were, it wasn't in the cards.

"Stanley, man. I'm sorry." Chris shook his head. "I'm just not interested in getting dinner with anybody." Chris smiled and patted Stanley's shoulder. "Thanks for asking. I'm flattered, but no."

The disappointment on Stanley's face was complete. Chris felt bad about it, but he couldn't imagine trying to be anything like pleasant on a date. "Oh. Well, okay." Stanley nodded, and he sighed. "Well, thanks for not laughing in my face at least."

Christopher frowned. "I'd never do that." He eyed Stanley. "Look, when I said I'm flattered, I mean it. I am." He continued, "I'm just not in the right state of mind for it. This is about me, not you."

Stanley blinked, and his blue eyes showed that he welcomed the additional information from Chris. "Okay." He smiled a little. "Well, if you decide you wanna go out sometime, let me know." Then he waved a hand. "Oh, and if you just want to hang out, we could do that instead."

"I will. Thanks for the offer, Stanley."

The man smiled at Chris, then he wandered off to start his work. Chris watched Stanley go, a small smile on his face. It was always nice to feel desired, even if he wasn't able to reciprocate.

Chris finished his shift and he headed home. It had finally stopped raining, though the world was still wet, and the air carried the enervating scent of petrichor - the smell of rain on earth and pavement. He parked next to the apartment building, then walked through the breezeway to his door. Christopher stood there, his keys in his hand, and he hesitated.

He just wasn't ready to do exactly the same thing he had done for the past month. Chris wasn't ready to go in, eat a microwaved meal, and then go to sleep before seven.

He deliberated. Then he unlocked his door and went inside.

Chris peeled off his greasy work clothes and went into the bathroom. He washed the grease and grime off of his hands and then he got into the shower. Once finished with that, he dressed in jeans and a black, short-sleeved collared shirt.

He turned to look at himself in profile in the mirror. Chris smirked at the way the jeans made his crotch look. When he wore jeans or slacks even a casual observer could tell he had more than average below the waist. Together with his broad shoulders, he cut a virile and handsome figure.

Though the only man he wanted was the one he had given up. Chris frowned at his reflection. "What am I doing?" He exhaled and rubbed his face. Every day he remained apart from Tad made it harder to imagine going back. Every day made his self-imposed exile more real - more permanent.

When he had left, Chris did so because he couldn't imagine staying. Tad had made a choice, and that choice forced Christopher's hand. He simply couldn't stand by while the repercussions from Tad's decision began to appear. Yet, now the cost of being apart from the man he loved was so high, Christopher didn't know if he could survive that either.

Chris's eyes hardened. "You're not doing this tonight. You're going to go get something to eat. You're going to sit and do something you like to do."

He stared for one more moment at himself and nodded. Then he turned away and walked to the living room. He gathered his woodworking project book, his pad of graph paper, and his pencil set. He put all of his supplies into his backpack. Then Christopher drove himself to sit at a little cafe in Old Town to enjoy dinner and the pleasant task of deciding on and planning a new woodworking project.

∞

Sunday dawned bright and clear. It was forecast to be a beautiful day, which suited Nate immensely.

The aforementioned was ecstatic to finally have gotten through the week. As the six o'clock hour approached, he dressed in clothes specifically chosen to show off his body. He sported new, black jeans that showed off his small waist while they also hugged his rump and crotch. Though he was nothing special in front Nate had a great rear, and he knew it. He had on a tight, gray t-shirt that made his red hair, blue eyes, and pale skin pop in contrast. Nate also put small silver hoops in his ears, along with a heavy silver rope chain around his neck.

The rest of the week hadn't been fun for Nate. Kent returned to work on Friday, and he didn't speak to Nate at all. Kent pointedly avoided the redhead whenever possible. That earned Nate more than one repudiatory glare from Liz.

Though he didn't have to work again until Tuesday, so he wouldn't have to worry about it until then. Instead, he stressed over his date. Nate's stomach felt queasy with butterflies, and he laughed as he rubbed a hand over it. "Jeez, calm down." He blew out a breath. "It's just a date." His tongue appeared to wet his lips and his thoughts were on their own program. 'No. Not just a date. It's a date with Tad. Don't fuck it up.'

Since the weather was clear, the plan was to meet at Tad's place, then they'd walk the few blocks over to Brick and Fire from there. That way, they could both have some wine, enjoy themselves, and not have to worry about driving.

"I've got to get some drinks in that man. Loosen him up a bit." Nate checked himself in the bathroom mirror on the back of the door. He picked little bits of lint off of his pants and shirt, his hands moving all over his clothes, trying to make sure everything was as perfect as it could be. "God, I hope this goes well." There was a bit of a desperate edge in his voice.

Nate stopped and he stared at himself. "What is wrong with you?" He shook his head. "This is just a guy." He stepped closer to the mirror, and he gave himself a lewd grin. "And like any other guy, he won't know what fucking hit him." Nate's grin slowly slipped until he looked at his reflection with a hopeful, yet uncertain expression. "Yeah. Yeah, I've got this. Right?"

It was now five thirty, and Nate picked up the cleaned, black coat he had planned to wear. He put it on, and he was out the door, down the stairs, and in his car in less than a minute. Nate made the drive quickly to Tad's and he parked in the same spot he had the last time he was there, across the street from the place. He got out and walked across the road to the doorway that led into Tad's section of the old, partitioned victorian home.

Tad must have kept watch for him because the door opened and the dark-haired man stepped outside. Tad's smile made Nate stop in his tracks, and he took the man in.

He had dressed in a lovely, gray tweed coat. A red and blue flannel shirt showed under that, and a barely-seen, simple gray t-shirt made up his final layer. A pair of tan dockers covered his legs. Black low-rise boots and a black leather belt made up the remainder of his outfit. His short, glossy black hair was just long enough for him to style, and it was artfully messy and cute on his head.

"Hello, Nate." He stepped close, and he motioned toward the south. "You ready for a little walk? It won't take long to get there."

Nate blinked, and he unconsciously grinned. "Uh, yeah." He worked his jaw and nodded, then looked Tad up and down. "You look great."

Tad smiled and he waggled his eyebrows. "You do too." Then he stepped up beside the redhead and smirked. "But, you knew that already, didn't you?"

The two began to walk, and Nate chuckled. He shrugged. "Well, I'd do me. So either I look all right or I have low standards." He inhaled suddenly, acutely aware what he said could be taken as an insult.

Tad roared with laughter while Nate painfully smiled along and hoped for the best. Tad shook his head, then he looked at Nate as the men crossed the next street. "Do you stick your foot in your mouth a lot, or is this just special for me?"

Nate blushed and he chuckled at his misstep. "Uh, it's special for you."

"I'm flattered." Tad seemed to enjoy the moment with Nate, so the redhead relaxed a bit.

Luckily for Nate, no further faux pas happened on the way to Brick and Fire. They arrived five minutes early at the door of the bistro, and Nate stepped forward as they neared the door. "Allow me." He opened it for Tad and was rewarded with a full smile from the dark-haired man.

They were seated immediately, and they settled in. Nate was happy they got one of the corner tables. Their table was comfortable, tucked away and semi-private, while the yellow light of candles and incandescent bulbs lit the place in a soft glow.

Their server came by, a young lady with a tasteful emerald nose piercing, blonde hair, and green eyes to match her piercing.

"Wine? You want to just get a bottle?" Tad looked at one of the menus, and he raised his eyes to Nate's. "I like red. Will that work for you?"

"Yes." Nate smiled. "Whatever, uh, whatever you want is fine." He had meant to turn the sentence into a sultry purr, designed to get attention and hook Tad's interest. Instead, it came out as a sort of bumbling, awestruck agreement.

Even while Nate inwardly cringed, Tad's smile grew, and he looked up at the server. "We'd like the Earthquake Petite Sirah. The bottle, please."

The server left, and Tad turned again to gaze at Nate. His dark eyes caught the flickering light from the candle on the table and Nate swallowed the lump in his throat. 'God, he's handsome. Fuck.'

Tad cocked his head, then he leaned forward. He stretched across the table and Nate watched as he gently closed his fingers over Nate's hand. Tad slowly pulled it a little closer to himself and both men looked down at their hands clasped loosely around one another.

Nate's heart pounded in his chest and he felt nearly dizzy. The simple act of contact lit something in him, and he found himself completely unprepared for the way his mouth had gone dry, and at the sensation under his sternum.

He looked up at Tad's face. The man wore an easy smile, and he shrugged. "Call me old fashioned," his fingers moved a bit against Nate's palm, "but it's not a date in my book if I don't ever get to hold your hand."

Nate couldn't help but agree with a goofy and heartfelt smile.